Bereft
by Katla
Summary: OC Vignette with appearance by Darth Vader. Set during the Jedi Purges. Please read and review! Constructive criticism welcomed!


How did it come to this?

I walk down the dusty, decaying corridors of the once-glorious Jedi Temple, and for the first time in a long while, I feel like weeping.

I hurry past the circular chambers where the younglings practiced and trained; I don't think I could go on if I feel the traces of their dying cries through the Force. A dull ache rises in my throat, but the tears I half expected to fill my eyes don't come. I lost the ability to weep long ago.

I remember the day my world shattered around me. My master - my steps falter only for a second, and I swallow painfully - came to me, disbelief and even fear in her normally serene eyes. I can't now recall her exact words, though I remember how she seized my hand and ushered me through these same corridors to the temple's landing bay. The memory is faint now, distorted by the passage of time - could it have only been a year ago? It seems like another lifetime.

My master - I dare not think of her name lest my carefully constructed calm collapse - thrust me onboard the transport already crowded with other padawans with a few knights and masters interspersed as guardians for the vulnerable younglings. She clasped my hands tightly in hers. They were ice cold though the wind teasing at her was humid and warm.

That was the first and last time I ever saw tears in my master's eyes. Her eyes were a deep, deep blue - almost violet really. She did not let the tears fall. The only feelings flowing over our link - the only emotion she allowed to slip past her shielding - were of comfort and strength.

"I confer on you the level of Jedi Knight," she whispered quietly, leaning so close I could feel her breath on my skin. "You have no need of trials, for the difficulties you will soon face will be more than enough."

The engines of the tiny transport gunned, nearly drowning out the last few words. Someone yelled at me to close the hatch.

My master smiled at me through her tears. Then she let go.

Her cold hands fell away from mine as the transport lifted off the permacrete landing pad and maneuvered out of the bay. The hatch was closed, I can't remember if I was the one who shut it. Everything seemed to fade, everything but the dwindling spot that was my master against a backdrop of whitish permacrete.

_ Be strong Padawan, _I heard her voice in my head. _Remember the Code._

A mere second after those words, I felt a phantom pain - my master's pain - and her life force was abruptly snuffed out. Like a flame suddenly doused, the comforting warmth of her presence disappeared, and I was alone.

I wept.

The next several hours and days are a blur in my mind, so great was my grief.

We stopped many times, our numbers dwindling with each planet we landed on. There was no safety in numbers; too many Jedi in one place would draw attention. So we dispersed.

I was the last to go. I piloted the transport (the pilot had stayed behind on the last planet) down to the surface of Tatooine.

I landed somewhere near the center of the Dune Sea, and there I remained for many days.

But I didn't stay. Those days provided me the time to think. The Jedi were being hunted, that much my master had passed on to me before -

-before.

I wept tears of anguish and loss in that time. I have not shed a single tear since. I was changed.

I emerged from that temporary solitude a different person, but I do not mourn, not for me. I mourn for my master and for my Order. I am among the last of the once powerful and glorious order. I have daily felt Jedi slipping into the Force. It is good that I can no longer cry.

I travelled around the Outer Rim for a time, without purpose of any kind - I was no one. I still am no one. I only landed to refuel and take on supplies; I purchased a droid and had it handle such exchanges for me. I kept to the planets known for their criminal population - planetary security is lax in such places.

I have not spoken to a sentient being in so long - it was far too dangerous to ever show my face; there was and is an astronomical bounty on the head of any Jedi - I began to talk to myself, just to break the maddening silence of my solitude. Every day was the same, I ate, I bathed, I stared. And I thought. I have been trapped in my own mind for too long.

Sometimes I wonder if I am sane.

Coruscant had dominated my thoughts for a very long time. It was always my home, and my thoughts flew to it more and more as the weeks dragged into months.

Finally, I decided to go home.

I got past planetary security without much trouble. I merely manipulated the minds of the traffic controllers.

But I know _he _felt me.

Palpatine.

I have never called him by his falsely claimed title and I never will. And now, as each step takes me closer to the great circular chamber once inhabited by the greatest of our order, the Jedi Council, I suppose Lord Vader will come for me soon. How fitting. My master died by his hand - that much I have surmised in my endless hours of contemplation. And now I will have the same fate.

I feel only anticipation.

I will meet death gladly. My life has already ended, now my body will simply follow suit. I suppose I have been dead for a long time. An odd thought.

There is a disturbance in the Force; like a drop of ink spreading through a glass of water, I feel it. Vader comes.

I do not slow my steps, nor do I rush, for I have reached the council chambers.

The doors do not slide open at my approach; I use the Force to pry them open.

There is a rush of cool air as I step through the doorway; all the windows are broken. The dusk sky is aflame with hues of red and orange. The fading light glints off the scattered shards of transparisteel. All twelve seats are still here.

Dust swirls around my feet, stirred by my movement. In the very center of the room, I kneel, lowering my hands to the dirt and dust coating the once-pristine tiled floor. Grasping two handfuls of powdery dust, I rise again. Transparisteel is digging into my palm; I ignore the pain, it no longer matters-

-because he is here.

I stare out the broken remnants of the windows. _Soon Master, I will come to you very soon._

I hear his respirator long before he actually reaches me. He stands in the doorway, silent.

I unclench my hands; the dust slides through my fingers as I turn to face him, a weary smile on my face. I no longer feel any bitterness.

"Do what you came to," I whisper. My voice is slightly hoarse; I have not used it for several days.

I think he is surprised; he pauses. I turn away.

The hum of his lightsaber fills the room and the walls are stained with flickering bloodred light. The sun has set.

I close my eyes.

_ There is no emotion; there is peace._

Transparisteel crunches beneath his boots as he approaches.

_ There is no passion; there is serenity._

The air has grown cool as night falls; I shiver.

_ There is no chaos; there is harmony._

He halts. The hum of his lightsaber reaches a crescendo as he raises it. _I am ready. I come, Master, I come._

I feel the air swish over my face as the weapon falls. I only feel a slight pressure on my neck.

_ There is no death; there is the Force._

"Welcome home, Padawan."


End file.
